


Alright, again

by hollyhock (willowthorn)



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Lupin has the emotional intelligence of a grape actually, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24738427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowthorn/pseuds/hollyhock
Summary: Following immediately after Goemon's Blood Spray.  Details of recovery, taking place over several weeks.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Alright, again

Fujiko is the one that finds him, afterward. 

Her motorcycle rumbles to a halt in front of him, the twisting mountain road flecked with his blood. He had been walking, it seemed. He remembers only flashes - Jigen and Lupin leaving, Zenigata first trying to go past him, then trying to talk him down, talk him into coming with him to a hospital. Goemon remembers not hearing after a certain point, his senses falling away again. He remembers Zenigata reaching for him. He remembers drawing blood, Zenigata scrambling away to radio for back-up. He remembers walking away, his body buzzing as it moved on its own. Goemon remembers nothing. 

Fujiko’s hands on him feel like void-pain-pressure. Her voice sounds like the ringing in his ears that happens whenever Jigen fires off a shot a bit too close to him. He remembers her trying to get him to move closer to her bike. He remembers his world turning, and the feeling of her body against him. He remembers something rushing out of him with the reintroduction of movement. 

The motorcycle rumbles below him, Fujiko holding him steady as she drives. The night air is nice, clear, and empty. 

There’s a sound of rushing water, silence, a burn of warm pressure as his wounds are cleaned. She presses at the raw, purple-tinged edges of the wound on his chest. It hurts. He flinches back from her, tries to close himself off to that feeling. She curses. He blacks out. 

When he wakes, he feels leaden, a headache ripping through him, a fever sticking to his skin. He makes himself relax into the feeling of pain. He does not open his eyes, but he can feel Fujiko beside him. She makes him drink something. He cannot remember anything.

His fever breaks, and rises, and breaks again. He spends afternoons reading, relishing when Fujiko comes to sit with him. She’s soft with him. She combs his hair when he cannot reach higher than his waist. She is patient with his silence, though she does complain about him, and Jigen, and Lupin. 

The mobility is slow to return to his arms. The right arm does better between the two. The feeling of water in his chest does not change much. The infection that had festered in him since he felt the scrape of the great white’s teeth had driven itself deeper within him with every failure, every injury, every day with food and drink neglected. 

Fujiko plans to steal him medication. He coughs and it feels thick, like he cannot breathe. He stubbornly refuses a visit from Fujiko’s own trusted doctor. Every consequence, every pain, reminded him of how much further he had to go. He would not ease them away. 

She brings him an armful of drugs, extra bandages, and disinfectant spilling from her bag. She starts spiking his tea when he refuses to take it himself. He lets her - it would be disrespectful otherwise. His chest hurts, his head hurts. 

The fevers get less frequent, the sticky tightness in his chest lessening. His wounds are starting to heal, his bandages itchy. He can feel fresh, hot blood cracking through the fragile skin whenever he moves. So he moves when Fujiko is out. It hurts. He meditates in the living room. It hurts less. 

She yells at him all of once. Tells him he’s an idiot, that if he’s suicidal there are less disrespectful ways to do it. Jigen wants to visit him, and if he keeps pushing he’s not only pissing on her attempts to heal him, but he’s hurting his friends by making them worry. She tells him that she’s worried. She tells him to stop pushing himself now so he can still use his arms later on.

He still moves, but he tries to keep it so she will not notice. He stops when he can feel the threat of new blood, the pricking at the corners of his skin. Two weeks pass before he can see Jigen. 

The other man is quiet around him, and Goemon can tell he wants to smoke. Fujiko probably talked him out of it, at least while he was sitting directly on Goemon’s bed. “Glad you’re alright.” 

Jigen’s hand rests near his. Goemon does not move his hand to brush against his. He simply stares at it as if from a distance, a curious little thing. 

“I wanted to go back for you. It wasn’t right, leaving you there. Lupin trusts the old man way too much - thought it was a sure thing, him getting you to a hospital. We’d break you out after you were stable, easy. Obviously that ain’t what happened.” Goemon looks at him, watches him hide beneath his hat. He listens to the slight, almost invisible shake to his words. “Lupin got grounded by the missus over there - he’s not allowed to see you until you’re both fully healed and ready to talk about that whole shit.” 

“I… do not understand.” Goemon breathes out, voice grating and harsh. 

“Yeah, I know you don’t, and that’s part of the problem.” Jigen removes himself from the bed, leaning out the window to smoke. “This shit can’t happen again.”

“It won’t, I’m stronger now.” Jigen looks at him in a way he does not recognize. 

He ends up staying for dinner. They make him gyoza. He eats slowly, carefully. His arms hurt by the end of it, but that is not unfamiliar. A few days more, and he will be fine on his own once again. He knows this. He’s sure they know this too. 

He starts trying to do more on his own. Fujiko doesn’t stop him, just takes over heavier tasks. He’ll reach for the tea, and the kettle is already filled. She doesn’t let him help with groceries, or cleaning, or any of the day to day chores, but she lets him take care of his own wounds now. He talks her into letting him sweep and help fold laundry by the end of the week. It’s good for his mobility, he says. He wants to recover so he can repay her. Fujiko looks at him when he tells her this, and says nothing.

Lupin comes the day before he’s determined to leave. 

His arm looks like it’s doing better. It’s still wrapped but doesn’t seem to be giving him much pain. He can see that his grip is still a bit weak. Goemon finds that he cannot quite remember what happened there. He does not dwell on that. 

They talk. Lupin understands him, understands his stubborn needs and desires. He understands why Fujiko and Jigen are mad at him, mad at them both. Of course, Lupin never has any trouble understanding people.

“Really, it’d be annoying if you get hurt like that again. I don’t think either of them would ever kiss me again if that happened.” He sighs, kicking his legs in the air. “But now that you know how to deaden your senses, it should be fine, right? Training like that must really stick with you.” 

Goemon barely remembers his training, but he nods. His body knows. His body has been screaming it’s lesson at him ever since he woke up. 

“Buuut, you know next time you want to train, you can take it slow, or ask us for help. Course, if it’s a matter of pride I wouldn’t interfere with the actual battle, but if you need us to distract the guy for a week or two while you train, I think that’d be a lot of fun.” Lupin rolls his wrist, laughing a bit to himself. “I mean! I knew there’s no way you would die - you’re way too stubborn for that - but those guys really love you. They don’t like it when you’re hurt too much.” 

“And you?” Goemon says after a long moment, the weight of his tea heavy but welcome in his hands.

“I’d do the exact same thing if I was in your position. I guess… Gogo, I’ve been wracking my brains trying to figure it out, and I think that recovery time is bull, so if taking a bit longer to train means less time between targets, then that’s gotta be alright. Besides, Jigen is such a fucking drag right now. For real, you’re a lucky guy to get Fujicakes as your nurse. My guy has an awful bedside manner.” Goemon says nothing to this. In some ways, he would have rather had Jigen there with him, at least those first few days when he could not move on his own. But he is thankful Fujiko found him.

“You should hurry up and recover already, you’re too pretty to be kept inside all the time.” Lupin kisses his cheek when he leaves, and Goemon wants to chase after him, wants to join him under open sky. 

He lets himself stay a little bit longer than he would normally. He shows Fujiko he will be fine when he grips her hand in his, lets her run her fingers across angry, raised scar tissue to prove that there are no gaps, no breaks within his flesh. He thanks her, verbally. He thanks her, physically.

He spends a night with Jigen. He lets him see the same things when he joins him in the bath, guiding damp fingers over puckered echoes of stitches. He lets Jigen wash his hair, and they’re still not fully alright, but they’re better. Jigen gives him the name of a therapist up north, says he’s been once or twice after rough jobs. That there’s no shame in it. 

“At least consider it.” Jigen leans against the doorway, arms folded as Goemon walks away. 

Lupin waits for him in his own safe house, miles away. He’s already planning, already pulling Goemon over to look at his maps, his rough sketches. His arm is warm as it pulls on Goemon’s own, the hands on him as steady and as firm as always. No light touches, no watching to see if Goemon gives any sign of pain. He talks, just like always. He gestures, just like always. 

Goemon relaxes against his voice, and things feel normal again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, donate to your local BLM chapter and Planned Parenthood.
> 
> You can reach me on twitter @willowthorn (search firehands sunkisser).


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